


The road from Willoughby

by ThreeMagpies



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Challenge Response, Fix-It, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-04-05 07:18:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4170909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThreeMagpies/pseuds/ThreeMagpies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Revolution fic (for the post Endgame fix it challenge): Sebastian (Bass) Monroe/Charlotte (Charlie) Matheson; Charloe. Set just before the end of Endgame, when Miles is still alive, and continuing on for a little bit after that. This is my way of fixing it... Events and other characters from the Show and the comics are mentioned in this story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The road from Willoughby

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s note: Thanks so much for reading… I wrote this for the Good Ship Charloe ‘Fix it’ fanfic challenge, and I hope you like it… I read the comics again tonight (after I read all the other fantastic stories written for this challenge) and this sort of came to me, really quickly - I hope I haven't made too many errors in continuity etc… Oh the M rating is for language in this one, I just wanted to be sure, Cheers… Magpie ☺

The road from Willoughby

The day started out like any other in recent times… Charlie got up, got dressed by candlelight, left the house she shared with Miles, her step mom (so weird, she still couldn’t think of her as that, Allie was only a couple of years older than her for fuck’s sake) and her little brother…

She needed to get out before dawn to check the traps in the woods nearby, rabbits were a prolific little bunch and she made a good living from the meat and skins… It helped that Allie was a great cook and knew how to turn rabbit into dishes that people in Willoughby begged for…

This morning Jimmy had snuck out of his attic room and tried to follow her again, she’d almost had to tie the dark haired, dark eyed seven year old to the bed to stop him – and he’d only stayed behind because she promised to take him out after she got back to practice with the new crossbow that Miles had made him … A little grin curved her lips…it still felt strange to think that she had another little brother, but he was nothing like Danny, nothing at all… Jimmy was all Miles, with a wiry strength and an endless capacity for trouble - and just a touch of his mother around the eyes…

It was almost as though she’d started again…a different life, a different mom, a different dad… it was still hard to think of Miles as her real dad, although it made sense when she remembered how her mom’s eyes had followed him when she thought Charlie wasn’t looking, the times when they’d snuck away… She’d even told Miles she thought he and her mom should give things a go.... But that was before Bradbury, before the world as she knew it fell apart yet again… before her Mom, Aaron, Priscilla and grandpa Gene died, before Connor died and before Sebastian Monroe went away…

She knew why he’d had to go, she even understood, but it still hurt… he was part of their family, what was left of it, and damn it she had gotten used to him being around. She’d fought next to him, they’d saved each other countless times and she’d come to understand the bond that he and Miles had together because she had felt some of that with him herself, even before Miles told her what had happened to the Monroe Republic and how, why he’d become General Monroe… Miles had also told her the truth about himself; he’d called her his confessor… and some of those truths had been hard to hear and harder to forgive, although she had forgiven… 

Miles had never really been the same after Monroe left them once they buried Rachael, Aaron, Priscilla and Connor; it was as though part of Miles had gone too… He’d told Bass where they were heading, just in case he wanted to find them again and Charlie thought that was why Miles never went far from their little farm… He, no - they, were always looking out for Monroe, and she knew he went out almost every night, looking at the horizon, until the light went… she knew that because they did it together…

She only realised how much Bass Monroe meant to her after he left, and then it was too late… he was gone. Because even though nothing actually physical had happened between them, there had been something, something real and she knew that it could have, maybe would have become more… 

And since then, no other man had mattered to her, not one of them could understand where she’d been; what she’d seen and done, they all seemed too shallow, or too young, too…something. None of them had the vibrant life that he had, and she wouldn’t want to fight next to any of them… None of them made her blood dance in her veins just by looking at her… 

She blinked away unwanted tears as she loped towards the woods in the pre-dawn light, and didn’t know if they were for her or for what might have been… There wasn’t much to fight anymore really anyway, the big wars were over, there were skirmishes and life could still be rough but on the whole people were trying to recover, those who were left anyway, trying to live in peace as much as they could, to make the best of things now it looked like the power really was gone forever…

She was thirty two and still lived with her folks, the men in town had given up on her and she was wary of travellers now, too many diseases running around… So, when she had needs she took care of them herself… Miles understood, they’d talked about it – some things, some people couldn’t be replaced, although Allie kept trying to set her up with pp’s… which was Allie speak for potential partners…

Allie seemed to know that she only had part of Miles, but that seemed to be enough for her; she made him as happy as a man who had been through as much as he had could be and when Jimmy came along – or James Sebastian Matheson when he was in trouble… Miles seemed to pick up; he stopped drinking, accepted the position as Sheriff for the town and had been a good husband and father ever since, although he never asked her to call him dad, he was Miles to her and always would be… 

She reached the first of her traps and bent to retrieve the rabbit, hanging it on a tether round her waist before re-setting the trap and moving on to the next…

A dozen rabbits later she was heading for home, a little slower this time, the rabbits were heavy even with the tethers slung over her shoulders but it was a good haul and she was humming a song that one of the travelling musicians had played for them – leaving the words and notation behind for their library… she let the sun warm her face…

She was almost back to the garden gate at the front of the house when she saw Allie, sitting on the front step; her back slumped against the doorframe, Jimmy sitting next to her, his head in her lap… and she felt the blood rush to her feet, her head feeling too light… Letting the rabbits slip to the ground she ran…

……………………………………….

Allie had gone looking for Miles after he’d gone to let the chickens out and hadn’t come back in for his breakfast… She’d found him, lying near the back door, his arm stretched out towards the house, his body already starting to cool. She hadn’t been able to lift him; not even with Jimmy’s help so they’d both gone to the front door to wait for her…

Between them all they had got him inside, Jimmy subdued but doing his best, she was so proud of him, Allie was silent, her eyes shattered…then Charlie had ridden into town.

Doc Parsons had ridden back out with her straight away, he said that it was a heart attack and that there was nothing anyone could have done. 

The funeral was a big one, everyone in town came, all their new friends – almost all of the old ones in town were dead, and as Charlie helped Allie clean up after the wake, she knew that the only person who could possibly understood how Charlie felt right now was not there…

They buried Miles on a high, green hill, where he could still keep watch, his dog tags draped over the headstone…

And afterwards, the house felt so strange without Miles in it… She and Allie walked quietly round, doing the jobs that needed doing after everyone went home – friends had been round to help with the heavier chores but on the whole they managed ok. Charlie had given the rabbits to a neighbour for his dogs so they weren’t wasted… she hadn’t had the heart to do anything with them. Jimmy hadn’t spoken about his dad yet; he hadn’t said anything really, he had been sat on the porch swing since the funeral, leaning against Miles’ old leather coat…

Charlie went to sit with him but she had to swallow a couple of times before she could speak…’Would you like to hear a story Jimmy…?’

…………………………………

And that was how it started… she’d tell him stories that Miles had told her - about the times that he and Bass Monroe had been best friends and brothers and how they grew up wild and happy in a town that was long gone now…then she told him how they’d joined the Marines, become soldiers and been friends, that they’d watched out for each other, taken care of each other, helped each other get home and when things were bad…and she told him what she knew of the blackout, what she’d seen and what other people had told her. She told him so many things and it took her a while to realise that the stories were as much for her as for him…

He and Charlie would sit on the swing seat, or on the back step – or they’d walk to the river and sit on the bank, and sometimes they’d go to the old fairground and climb up onto one of the hanging seats, the breeze rocking them to and fro… and, as the months passed, she gradually got to the part where she joined the story… and she told him about growing up in the republic, the good times and the awful ones – and about his other brother, Danny and how he died… 

His eyes grew big when she talked about the Nano, the bombs and the helicopters – he especially liked the helicopters - and the trains – and when she talked about the fighting… 

And sometimes she told stories more than once, especially the one about the last days of the war – and Bradbury, and the last day she and Miles had seen Monroe…and he’d say ‘I’ve heard that story before, Charlie’ and she’d say ‘but I want you to remember him’, and then they’d both go up to the top of the green hill to visit Miles and they’d sit there a while… 

Allie would watch them, letting them work things out in their own way; then gradually she started smiling again…and cooking. She’d also started seeing one of the local farmers, a widower. She’d been worried that it was too soon for Jimmy and Charlie but he was a kind man and Charlie was happy for her; Allie wasn’t happy on her own… and Jimmy liked him, although he still spent most of his time with Charlie when he wasn’t at school…

But each night, after dinner and when Jimmy had gone to bed, Charlie would climb the hill to visit with Miles, and she’d keep a look out, just in case…

One night, six months to the day after he died, she was visiting with Miles as usual, the summer stars just starting to peek out and the sun almost down. She could see the lights of nearby farmhouses starting to come on as people lit their lamps and candles and the road from Willoughby was a pale ribbon running from the town and past their gate… 

A mockingbird called nearby and she turned her head to see if she could see it…then swung back as a movement along the road caught her eye… she looked closer, wishing she’d brought Miles’ binoculars along with her. She could just make out the silhouette of a horse and rider in the distance, heading down the road towards the house and she wondered who was travelling so late… It was rare for people to go too far away from town or homestead close to full dark, there were still troublesome people around and Willoughby had a lot of bad memories…

The rider came closer and her mouth suddenly went dry… there was something familiar about the easy way the rider sat the horse, the relaxed sway of body and rein, and she ran her tongue over her lips, trying to moisten them… She watched them as the pair came closer, sure that the horse would turn off, that it was just someone going home late… but it didn’t…and suddenly she was almost sure…she swallowed and took a deep breath, she could still be wrong, could be just wishful thinking…but it wouldn’t hurt to make sure. She’d go to the gate, and if they went past, well that was that…

She patted the grassy mound as she usually did; to wish Miles goodnight, then got up… She brushed the dust off her pants, pulled her favourite, ancient tank down to cover a bit more of her belly, and smoothed back her hair… She’d noticed a couple of greys the other day, and pulled them out, but apart from that she was doing ok, at least men still looked at her as though she was easy on the eyes… She tried to slow her heart down but it wouldn’t listen, and her breaths came shallow and fast…

She checked the road again; the rider was still coming, the horse moving along with the long, steady, open stride of one that had walked a long way… the rider holding the reins loosely in one hand, the other resting on one of his thighs…

The gate was about twenty minutes walk – or ten if she loped it…

Ten minutes later she stood at the gate. She could hear the hoof beats now, coming closer…. There was a clump of trees between the gate and the road and she couldn’t quite see round them in the fading light…

She knew it was stupid, because what if it was someone else, but she opened the gate and went out onto the road anyway…

The horse was a dark bay and its white blaze and socks looked like they were slowly dancing as the rider came closer… she still couldn’t see him clearly though but then the moon came up above the hill behind her where it had been hiding…

She knew he could probably see the tears on her cheeks but she didn’t care…

He checked the horse and swung to the ground, his movements as controlled and graceful as they ever were… ‘Hello Charlotte…’ he walked towards her, leading the horse… and he looked just the same, the scruff, the moustache… he stopped, his lips curving in a gentle smile…’It’s good to see you…’

Charlie blinked, and he was still there… She swallowed, her voice cracking… ’You came back…’

…………………………………….

The end (or rather the beginning….) 

……………………………………

**Author's Note:**

> AN: I have loved all the fantastic stories I’ve read for this challenge and have tried to do them justice with this one…. please leave a comment if you have a moment and feel you'd like to. I loved writing this... I wanted to show how Charlie might have got the the last frame in Endgame, and that Bass could have come back... wishing you all the best, and here's to lots more Charloe!!! Magpie


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